Only Humans
by Krolenat
Summary: Their latest hunt turned out to be not so supernatural after all. Sam was more than willing to hand the case over to the cops, but Dean was adamant about finishing the job. Because this was a chance for Dean to redeem himself, save some people, after all the damage he had done in the past year. Because he was not a demon any more.
1. Chapter 1

"Yeah, I'm not finding anything over here Sam."

Sam sighed as he turned off the ignition, "There's got to be something somewhere in there Dean. I'm telling you man, he is our guy."

They had been drawn into town by three gruesome murders, where all the victims were killed on the same day every year. After a few days of investigation, they had narrowed it down to one Jason Sommers, a recluse who moved into town three years ago. Why he killed those people, they had no idea yet, and that was why Dean was snooping around in his house while Sam trailed Sommers in the impala.

"And I'm telling you, no witchy hex bags, no satanic...hold on a sec-"

Sam could hear the sounds of Dean clicking away on Sommer's computer over the phone.

"What is it?" Sam responded absentmindedly as he watched Sommers go into a diner across the road.

"Son of a-" Dean cussed.

"What, Dean?" Sam turned his full attention back to his brother.

"Crap! This is bad, Sam."

"Dean tell me, what is it?" Sam grew impatient.

"Sommers is not a witch or a demon or anything, Sam. He's just a psychopathic son of bitch who kills people because he's screwed in the head."

"What? What did you- but why this day? What is so special about today?" Sam sat up straighter.

"Today is the anniversary of the day his mother killed his father," Dean explained, "and he's got something big planned for this year...uh oh," Sam could hear Dean typing away again.

"I found the blueprint of the mall he's planning a shoot-out at. The problem is that he has been corresponding with a group of 'devil worshippers' and has convinced them to join in the fun. Which means-"

"Which means they could be anyone and anywhere in that mall," Sam finished.

This was bad. This was real bad. It was the time for Christmas shopping, and the mall had to be bursting with shoppers on a Saturday.

"Come pick me up and we'll go there together. We've got to stop them."

"Dean, maybe we should leave it to the cops? I mean, there's only two of us and god knows how many of them," Sam reasoned.

Sam had tried so hard to keep Dean away from violent situations like this, afraid that it might somehow trigger the Mark of Cain.

"Great idea, hey why don't you go alert the police department and bring backup while I go to the mall. I'll borrow a car, I'm closer."

By borrowing, Dean meant stealing. Sam was more than uncomfortable with this. It was not their job to hunt down human monsters. And he could read in between the lines, plain as day: Dean was sending Sam away to safety while running headfirst into danger himself. Typical Dean.

"Dean, no-" Sam started to argue but was shot down by his brother.

"There's no time. They might even be there already! Just go Sam, and hurry!" Dean snapped and all Sam heard after that was the dial tone.

"Damn it, Dean!"

Sam was unsure about leaving Psycho Sommers with a diner full of potential victims and going to the police station. What if he decided to kill off the patrons in the diner too?

The decision was made for him by the appearance of Sommers. Sommers headed back into his car with a take-out bag. He must be planning on watching the shootout with some burgers and fries. Sick son of a bitch.

Police station it is.

* * *

Dean gave a cursory glance around the parking lot before he slipped his lock pick into the door. With a tug, the lock gave and with another glance around the area, he slipped into the car and sped out of the place.

He had no clue how he was going to stop the massacre but he was going to try. He had done enough harm while he was a demon and it was time he did some good, save some lives. All he did for the past year was to screw things up, get people killed, and let Sam down. When was the last time he actually saved someone? Gosh, it felt like a long, long time ago.

Within minutes, Dean was at the mall. There were people everywhere! Some going in, some coming out of the mall, unaware of the danger they were going to be in.

According to the emails between Sommers and his accomplices, the satanic cult was led by someone named Jeff. Not that the information was particularly useful, but Jeff had shared his proposition of a plan with Sommers: Hack into the security systems, lockdown the mall, position his guys all over the mall, and start shooting.

If Dean was lucky, he might be able to stop the guys before they have control over the mall's exits. He pushed his way past the crowd in the mall, trying to find the nearest path to the security room.

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure?" The sheriff asked, "we don't want to cause unnecessary panic among the people."

"Yes! I am! Look, my partner's at the mall, and this could happen any second now. We have to go! Now!" Sam almost yelled.

After a few seconds of careful consideration, the sheriff looked up at Sam, "Alright. I'm trusting you here, Agent."

"Gear up people!" The sheriff yelled to his officers, "All units in the area to respond code 3 to the mall!"

* * *

Seemed like Dean was just on time. His heart thumped loudly against his ribcage as he stood outside the control room, eavesdropping on Jeff giving orders.

"Second floor, near the elevators. Yes, right there. Andy you are at the third floor, Fred, ground floor. Alright, get ready to move out. Check your gear."

There were at least five of them in the room. Dean knew the security guards were either dead or dead. And there was no way he was going to be able to stop five heavily armed, trigger-happy psychopaths by himself. Dean only hoped that Sam would hurry up.

'Found them. 1st floor, control room. Come quick' Dean typed hastily and sent the message.

'GET OUT OF THERE NOW!' was the reply he got from Sam.

Yeah, like hell he was. Dean hid himself in the shadows when he heard the door open and the gunmen shuffle out of the room.

Jeff! If he could somehow force Jeff to stop the operation, he might have a chance at preventing the massacre. That bastard should still be hiding in the control room, overseeing the whole thing.

Dean was about to step out of his hiding place when someone started coming down the hallway, past where Dean was and into the control room. Of course! Of course it was Sommers the Sicko, came to watch the show.

Dean cocked his gun and stepped into the room after Sommers.

* * *

The convoy had just arrived at the mall when Sam heard shots rang out from inside the mall. Screams erupted and all the officers sprung into action.

Sam was rooted to the ground in horror as the cops brought down the locked doors, and the frantic crowd burst out of the unlocked doors. There were so many people! Too many!

Finally, he forced himself to snap out of it. Dean needs his help right now.

Dean! He had to find his brother!


	2. Chapter 2

**_Five minutes earlier..._**

Using the butt of his gun, Dean struck the back of Sommers' head, who went down like a sack of potatoes.

"Uh uh, don't even think about it," Dean aimed for Jeff's head when the man reached for a weapon, "move away from the gun."

Jeff was oddly compliant, probably because of the gun trained on his head, but it still made Dean uneasy. He could totally hear the gears turning in Jeff's head. Without moving his focus away from Jeff, Dean closed the door with a kick to avoid anyone sneaking up from behind him.

"Tell your men to stand down," Dean barked.

"Or what? You gonna shoot me?"

"Don't think I won't. You know that he," Dean nudge the body on the ground with his foot, "is just using you. He doesn't really mean what he said, about being a fan of satanism or whatever crazy shit you kids are into these days."

"Doesn't matter. Jason gets his fix, Satan gets his offerings, and everyone goes home happy. Well, everyone who doesn't end up dead by the end of the day," Jeff shrugged.

Dean knew that he was not going to win the argument. He pointed the gun at Jeff's kneecap instead. "Last chance, Jeff. Stop them, or you're going to spend the rest of your in a wheelchair, behind bars."

"Do you know what bothers me the most? Cops like you who have seen so much evil and still believes that doing good is the way to go. C'mon! It is so damn obvious that it is evil which is running the world, why still choose to fight the losing fight?"

Images of his time in Hell, purgatory and when he was a demon flashed in front of Dean's eyes.

Why?

Because Sam. He had to keep Sam safe.

"Because it is my job."

Dean squeezed the trigger, but Sommers swept him off his feet and the shot went wide.

Son of a bitch had been playing possum all this time! Dean grunted as he fell onto the floor. The two of them were a tangled heap on the ground as Sommers wrestled for Dean's gun. Dean managed to land a punch or two on Sommers' head but his opponent was still fighting fiercely.

Finally, Dean kneed him hard in the groin and head-butted him. Sommers fell off to the side.

With a swift motion, Dean got up and shot him in the head. Dean pivoted around and aimed at Jeff, but it was too late.

The shot had found his mark and Dean collapsed onto the floor with a gunshot wound to the stomach.

Crap, crap, crap.

He can't die.

He can't become that thing again.

"It's time. Get 'em boys."

That was the last thing Dean heard before another shot rang out and then there was nothing.

* * *

Sam sprinted down the hallways on the first floor, trying to find the security room. Shots were still being fired away, and Sam was not sure if it was the shooters or the police. The only thought that was looping in his head was: Dean, Dean, Dean.

He rounded a corner and caught a man taking off from the security room.

"Hey!" Sam was about to give chase, when he got a glimpse into the room and saw his nightmare coming true right in front of his eyes.

"No. No, no, no. Dean?! Dean!" Sam kneeled beside his brother.

He looked dead already.

"Oh god, is he..." The sheriff appeared at the door.

Sam held his fingers against his brother's carotid. Sam half expected Dean to open his eyes and he would see the demonic black orbs staring back at him. Even now, he was still plagued with nightmares of Dean turning into a demon; and every time he got woken up by the nightmares, he would make his way to his brother's room to make sure that Dean was still there.

But this? There was no waking up from reality.

"He's...he's alive," Sam felt the faint throb against his fingertips.

The sheriff proceeded to radio for help before he received more reports from his men, "Alright, I've sent someone here to help your partner, but I have to go."

Sam only managed to nod. There was no time to wait for an ambulance. Dean was going to bleed out in no time and then they would be back to square one again. Except this time, Sam was not sure if Dean was going to survive the cure, or if it was even going to work again.

Sam fished out his phone from his pocket, ignoring the red smears he was leaving on its screen, "Cas? Cas! Could use some help right now! Dean needs your help! We're at-"

"Sam, I can't...after Metatron, even though we still have access to heaven, we are still cut off from most of its-"

"No! No, you're kidding!" Sam realised that actually, it had been a while since he saw the angel use his powers to get around.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I-"

Sam hung up without hearing what the angel had to say. He didn't have the time, nor the patience. It was all up to him now. What the hell should he do?

Stopping the bleeding would be wise.

Sam could punch himself in the face for not doing that earlier. He shrugged off his jacket and pushed it against the bleeding holes on his brother.

* * *

Tricia tightened her grip on her first aid kit and the backboard as she stepped into the room. Normally, she would be working with the partner Andy, but there were just too many people needing help today, and too little people available to give it.

One of the bodies on the floor had a hole on his forehead. Must be the bad guy then. A guy with floppy hair was working on the other body. That must be the FBI agent she was sent here to help.

"Sheriff Walton sent me, what have we got here?"

"Uh...umm...gunshot wound to the chest and abdomen. I can't...I can't stop the bleeding," the guy was shaking.

"Alright, Agent-"

"Sam. This is Dean, my...partner."

"Sam, you can let go for a moment, I got this," Tricia removed the bloodied jacket.

Tricia checked Dean's vitals and damn, they had to move quickly. She applied the haemostatic gauzes over the wounds and guided Sam's hands over them, "Keep pressure on that. Are there any exit wounds?"

"I don't...I don't think so," Sam shook his head.

There wasn't any blood coming from beneath the guy, so Tricia took Sam's words for it.

"Now we're going to slide him onto the backboard so that we can transport him to my rig, You think you could help me with that?"

* * *

The both of them managed to carry Dean down into the ambulance within minutes. Sam rubbed absently at the dried blood on his hands as the lady hooked Dean up to the machines in back of the vehicle.

"Andy, you good to go?" the paramedic spoke into her radio.

"Trish! I'm on my way to the rig with a critical GSW, 30 seconds out."

"Roger that," she answered and turned her eyes onto Sam.

Sam was aware of what that look meant, "I'm not leaving him."

"I'm sorry, Sam. There's just no room for another person. I promise you I'll do everything in my power to help Dean."

"I can't-"

He was interrupted by the arrival of Andy and his patient, and after a flurry of activity, Sam found himself staring at back of the departing ambulance.

"I can't leave him alone right now."


	3. Chapter 3

Sam pushed his untouched plate of salad away. Apart from the fact that the hospital managed to screw up a plate of uncooked vegetables, it was hard to stomach anything when he knew that Dean was lying unconscious upstairs.

It has only been one hour since Dean had came out of his life-saving surgery. After being told that Dean was not going to be waking up before morning, Sam decided to grab something to eat in the cafeteria before his overnight watch over his brother.

After giving up on his dinner entirely, Sam trudged up the steps towards the wards, where there was an uncomfortable plastic chair with his name on it. Fatigued by the events of the day, Sam pushed open the door to Dean's room and fell into his chair with a thud.

And damn that chair was hard.

"Sammy"

"You're awake!" All of Sam's lethargy melted away at the sound of his brother's voice.

Dean still had his eyes closed when he replied, "Looks like."

"They said you won't be awake until morning," Sam commented.

Dean was looking much better than he had back at the mall, thanks to the blood transfusions. In spite of the infamous Winchester luck, the bullets had managed to miss all of Dean's vital organs.

"Well they don't know who they're talking about," Dean started to sit up, "Owww."

"Dude, what are you doing?" Sam gave an exasperated sigh.

Dean only went as far as propping himself up with his elbows.

"How bad is it?"

"Hmm? Not too bad. You'll be out here in a few days, the bullets didn't hit any-"

"No, not me. How bad is it?" Dean licked his chapped lips, "at the mall."

Sam busied himself with pouring water into the plastic cup. He had expected to be asked this question ever since he knew that Dean was going to be fine. And a part of him was hoping that Dean never bothered to ask.

Sam stuck a straw in the cup and brought it to Dean, still pondering over the best way to break the news.

"Sam?"

"A lot of people were injured...mostly in the stampede which resulted. And..."

"And what?" Dean pressed after taking a long sip.

"Twenty-five civilians died."

* * *

"Twenty-five," Dean whispered.

The number left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Dean," Sam was giving him the kicked-puppy look.

Dean could not help but feel like it was partly on him. He was right there, outside the room, where all the shooters were. Past-him would not even have hesitated to barge into the room guns blazing, but now...

"We saved a lot more people from dying today, Dean."

"Yeah well, I could have done more, but I was..."

Dean was scared. He was afraid to die, and be turned into a monster again. That was why he hesitated, why he hid in the shadows instead.

But it was all over now, and there was no point in crying over spilled milk. With the amount of milk he had been spilling all over the floor lately, Dean was surprised that he had not drowned himself in milk yet.

"What about the shooters?" Dean asked.

Sam looked glad at the change of topic, "Two were shot dead by the police, three others were apprehended. Their leader was shot dead by the sheriff when he tried to flee and of course, you killed Sommers."

Good, that was good.

"Time to bail? I mean, the shooting must have gotten the real FBI involved and all..." Dean started to get up again, more slowly this time around.

It was not his first time getting shot, but it had been a long time since the last one. He forgot how much moving hurts, even with the morphine coursing through his veins at the moment. Dean just wanted to get this part over and done with, so that he could sleep in the car while Sam drives them home.

"Dean, it's okay. We're good. Just get some rest, I'll be here."

"Really?"

Dean really did not feel like going anywhere at the moment.

"Yes, really. I've taken care of it," Sam had a smug look on his face.

Alright then, if Sam said so.

* * *

Sam waited until Dean's face evened out in sleep before sinking back down into the chair.

"Everything will be fine Dean; you'll be fine."

**THE END**

* * *

**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Y'all!**

**Hoped you've enjoyed this short story about our favourite pair of brothers on TV.**

**-Kel**


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